


Start Line

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Collars, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Leashes, M/M, Mild Puppy Play, Vaguely Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 14:51:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2551586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Riker says good morning to his newest officer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Start Line

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I guess this is vaguely AU because I haven’t mentioned Deanna and yet Captain Riker seems to be in a torrid love affair with Wesley Crusher. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He doesn’t bother with a shower because he knows what’ll happen; Wesley’ll wake up, wander in, Will will inevitably draw him closer, fuck him hard against the tile wall under the non-sonic, running water, and never make it that extra hour early. He’ll still make his shift on time, of course, and even if he didn’t, he can easily set it back, but either way, he’ll miss bidding the Gorn Ambassador goodbye. 

He should be up now, getting ready and soon headed for the transporter room, the entire ship slowly circling Organia. The assembly chamber coordinates are already in the transporter, but the meeting isn’t for another half an hour, and even if Will isn’t permitted to beam down and join, he can at least bid his amusing guest a final goodbye. 

Which will have to be sans-shower. He heaps on too much cologne to cover it and straightens his dress uniform, staring in the mirror and giving it a final tug. It’s too long around the middle—Starfleet dress uniforms always are. 

Then he talks himself into finally leaving the bathroom, heads for the door to his quarters, and makes the mistake of glancing back towards the bed in the interim.

His lover’s bare feet are poking over the edge, protruding from the blankets all the way up to the thigh. The creamy skin seems to glow in the low bedroom light, and Will’s steps falter, even though he knows damn well how dangerous it would be to stop. 

He stops anyway. His lover’s made a long, drawn-out moan, half muffled by a pillow and obviously still done through sleep. So long as he remains asleep, Will supposes, there’s no danger in just looking. 

A foolish notion, he knows, but his feet have already turned around of their own accord. His boots pad softly across the _Titan_ ’s smooth floor, not nearly as shaggy as the _Enterprise_ ’s quarters were, and the closer he gets to the bed, the more ensnared he feels. 

Wesley’s curled up on the mattress, right where Will left him, entirely naked and still glistening in tiny drops of sweat. His first night involved a rather rigorous workout, followed by Will nudging him awake again halfway into his sleep cycle just to engage in another round. They’ve been apart too long, and all of Will’s attractions and frustrations have built up. There’s nothing for it but to work them out, to ease back into having one another around, so hopefully Will can unwind a bit on shift and go more than five minutes without touching Wesley in some way—a habit even Wesley noticed last night. 

The Academy’s changed him, aged him, grown him into a full man, but he’s still the adorable, beautiful genius he was on the _Enterprise_ , and Will’s waited far too long to have him aboard. 

Will doesn’t mean to, but he drops his hand to Wesley’s shoulders, turned down—Wesley’s lying mostly on his front, head to the side in the pillows—and brushes over the warm skin peeking out of the blankets. They’re bunched up around him, pushed aside from where Will crawled out, draping over Wesley’s torso and just barely covering the hump of his ass. Will’s breath catches as his eyes trail down Wesley’s bare legs, scrumptious and enticing and entirely too dangerous to be in the captain’s bed. 

If Will could, he’d take the whole week off to spend time with his newest officer, but he knows there’s no way in the world he’d get away with it. And if he did, he wouldn’t be a very good captain. 

His hand falls down over the arch of Wesley’s spine, fingertips sliding along the loose, leathery collar, still fastened firmly around Wesley’s neck. The hook at the back still has the thin leash attached to it, draped over the pillow and up and around the bedpost. An oversight on Will’s part, brought on by the cloud of constant lust Wesley throws him into—he should’ve removed it for bed, just to be safe. He should at least do it now. But a part of him doesn’t want to—stubbornly refuses—even though it’s just a simple clasp that Wesley could easily undo himself. Will wants to make sure it keeps Wesley firmly tethered to his bed for as long as he can. 

He can’t stop. Not now that he’s started. His hand runs up the lean line of Wesley’s neck, skimming over the new collar, and traces down Wesley’s jaw line, fingers curling beneath Wesley’s chin. Wesley’s plush lips twitch into a faint smile, though his dark eyelashes stay closed, nose still flaring with even, undisturbed breath. Will brushes a few stray strands of brown hair away from his eyebrows and strokes down Wesley’s cheek, mapping everything all over again. 

Wesley’s lips part, and Will knows he’s gone and done it: woken Wesley up and made it impossible for him to ever get away. 

Wesley takes in a long, languid breath. His eyes slowly flutter open, scrunching again against the quiet light, and he leans up into Will’s touch. He takes another second to come to, then breaks into a large yawn and murmurs, “G’morning, Captain.”

“Good morning, pup,” Will chimes back, grinning too wide. It’s worth it when Wesley’s tired eyes slide up to him, mouth rising to mirror the smile. Wesley scrunches up again when Will bends down to peck his cheek, lingering longer than he should. Wesley’s skin is _so_ soft, body so very warm. Wesley tries to stifle a chuckle; Will’s been told his beard tickles.

He kisses Wesley again, closer to the corner of his mouth, just to cause trouble, and Wesley laughs and tries to push Will away. Will dodges and sits on the edge of the bed properly, twisting over his naked lover to press a hard, full kiss to Wesley’s lips, which Wesley automatically parts for him. Will’s tongue dives right inside, unfazed by morning breath or Wesley’s lazy lack of response. He claims Wesley’s mouth anyway, pushes right into the back, traces all the sides and starts to suck on Wesley’s bottom lip, and Wesley sighs contentedly. 

When Will finally does manage to pull away, Wesley murmurs, “Will you take me for a walk today?” He can’t just say on a tour of the ship, because they both know Wesley’s already memorized the _Titan_ ’s specs, and a ‘walk’ keeps up with their game. Will idly fiddles with the leash, wishing he really could parade Wesley around on it. 

Maybe next time they hit a starbase and drop everyone else off. He can find a way; no one’s ever accused Will Riker of not being resourceful. He’s already decided he’ll find a way to have Wesley in the captain’s chair, one way or another. Preferably more than once. In more than one position. If he could, he’d station Wesley in his lap for every shift. 

But that isn’t what Starfleet’s about, so Will sighs, “Not today, pet,” and pecks Wesley’s forehead for consolation. Wesley doesn’t look particularly put out, but he does roll onto his side so he can reach Will better, leaning up on one elbow for his own kiss. It lets the blanket tumble further down his body, exposing the top of his chest and two dusty rose nipples. 

Will has to hold himself back from diving in to lick them. He wants to lap all over Wesley’s body, wants to bite Wesley’s shoulders and push Wesley back down to the mattress, flatten him there and pound into him, make the bedsprings groan and the headboard bang against the wall. But mostly he wants to toss the blankets away and _stare_ at Wesley’s perfect ass, slap it and bite it and kiss it and fuck it. Wesley would love it too. And if Wesley wasn’t a genius, wasn’t one of the Academy’s top graduates, wasn’t suited for Will’s bridge in every conceivable way, he’d still want Wesley on his ship just for that reason. Just to be the captain’s pet. The more Wesley kisses him, the more he’s sure of that, and the more he craves every other morning ahead of them, waking up together. 

But today, there’s more to do, and Will forces himself to pull away. He moves out of Wesley’s range, even though Wesley’s eyes have hazed over again and Wesley’s lips are wet from being kissed and seem to call out to Will’s tongue. “I have to get going,” Will says, a jumble of breathless words. “But I’m looking forward to greeting my new officer on the bridge at alpha shift.”

“I just transferred on, and you’re going to leave without me?” Wesley asks. His transport ship rendezvoused with them yesterday, but Wesley still knows their current mission, still knows Will’s duties. Or the fringe duties he’d like to achieve, anyway. Wesley glances over his shoulder at where his leash is looped around the bedpost, adding, “Are you going to keep me tied up until then?”

This is hardly tied up. It’s nothing to the chains Will plans to put on him, the cuffs and toys and bindings and all the many other things they’ll try. But Will obliges anyway, reaching for the post and unknotting the end of the leash. When he’s got it in his hand, he means to unclip the other end from Wesley’s collar, but his brain knows that there’s still time. 

A tiny bit of time. An inappropriate time. His fingers curl around the leash all the same. His fist tightens. Wesley still reeks of sex and _William Riker._ If he stepped on the bridge without a shower, everyone would know right away exactly who he belonged to. 

And that insane reasoning is what Will uses to keep himself here. He gets to his feet, still holding the leash, and he tries to ignore Wesley’s cheeky grin. All he sees is Wesley’s sultry body, slithering out of the blankets, and when he’s fully free, Will can still see the remains from last night plastered all over Wesley’s ass. He’ll definitely need cleaning up. 

So Will guides him by the leash towards the bathroom, figuring there was never a chance of leaving these quarters alone anyway.


End file.
